Wee Little Bugger
by Warsh
Summary: “We fought the majority of them off… but Carson has a… uh, well, a 'little' problem.” Warning: plausible cuteness overload. [Au, CarsonJohn friendship NOT SLASH] This story has not been beta read. All mistakes are my own.
1. Expect the Unexpected

Wee Little Bugger

Synopsis: "We fought the majority of them off… but Carson has a… uh, well, a _little _problem.". Warning: plausible cuteness overload. [Au, CarsonJohn friendship/bond (not slash)

A/n: Giving credit where credit is due: All major characters and settings are owned solely by the creators of Stargate, and unfortunately, not by me. Also, the basic plot line of this story was inspired by Danny Phantom SG-1. I hope they don't mind me concocting a plot-bunny out of it (:

Dr. Elizabeth Weir liked to consider herself an expert at expecting the unexpected. After all, she _was _living in another galaxy that was inhabited by green, life-sucking aliens. But: the one thing she could never predict was the strange and downright freakish things that the members of her SGA-1 team could get themselves into.

So when Sheppard told her that he was taking Beckett and McKay to a primitive planet for a food-in-exchange-for-drugs trade; she readied herself for the good, the bad, and the ugly.

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From the control room the whoosh of air was heard as the big blue puddle flashed into life, casting its teal-ish glow around the room. The gate tech confusedly announced it was Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard's ID code. And by 'confusedly' it was meant to be interpreted as Sheppard checking in with Atlantis nearly six hours ahead of schedule. Now, albeit the Colonel wasn't the greatest person at being on time for anything, but he was never, _never_, early checking in. In fact it was a great rarity. "Open a connection," Weir stated with a hint of curiosity and bewilderment. The technician quickly obliged. "Sheppard? Something you needed?" The radio connection crackled as the facetious drawl of John Sheppard responded.

"Dr. Weir," it was his normal starter when the answering of a question would end up being a long-winded explanation, "we've encountered our green friends again. A band of about twenty ambushed us, jumped down from a ledge that side-railed one of the village paths. We fought the majority of them off… but Carson has a… uh, well, a _little _problem." The crackling took the place of his voice for a moment. "You won't believe me until we get there, so I'll explain more in depth once we're eye to eye. I just need you to do one favor for me."

"Depends on what it is," She tried to withhold the worry from her voice, but John caught it anyways.

"Clear the gate room?"

He was out to make a liar out of her and her 'expect the unexpected' speech. The puzzlement in her voice was clear as day. "Alright, I can do that" She motioned for the gate tech to shoo away the other people lower the shield. "Come on through, the iris is open and the room is clear."

Within seconds Rodney appeared in front of the Stargate, carrying what looked to be more than the share of equipment he left with. Was that a medical pack? That didn't bode well for whatever condition her CMO was in. The Colonel appeared behind Rodney, also with more than his share of field equipment. Carson didn't follow. It wasn't until the gate shut down that Elizabeth noticed the small, yet familiar bundle that was held in John's arms. She covered her mouth with her hands to hide her surprise and shock. "Oh my…"

John gave a look of surprise and sarcasm, "Uhm… oops?" She glared at him and pointed at her office. This would be interesting.

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Rodney was sent away to the infirmary for a post-mission checkup, whilst John and his precious cargo were firmly directed into Weir's office. Doctor Susanne Apollo, the 2IC for Carson, was also summoned to collect them after what was sure to be one hell of a story. With his gear and vest deposited by the door, he sat carefully into one of the poorly padded chairs that sat opposite her desk, the small, sleeping figure leaning comfortably on his chest. Even though the features were young and fresh, the mound of thick and unruly hair plus the pastel blue eyes gave it away. The toddler that was napping on Sheppard's lap was none other the Carson Beckett. He stirred as John resituated, but did not wake. Weir just stared for a moment, and then looked to Sheppard, "How…?" It was all she could manage.

John glanced down, then back to meet her eyes, "Well, we aren't really sure. But I can tell you, vaguely, what happened."

"Please do," she said, lips pursed.

"Well, we couldn't have been more than a mile and a half from the gate, and maybe four miles from the village when the Wraith decided to surprise us. I gave the order to scatter, and we all ended up in different directions. It didn't last long than maybe thirty minutes, and we took out maybe half of their little party. The living retreated, most likely to tattle to their superior or something. Do Wraith do that, tattle?"

"John, get on with it." She rolled her eyes. Men.

"Oh right, sorry. Well, I ran into Rodney, literally, near the path but we couldn't find Carson. We radioed him and called his name, when no response came we feared the worst. We canvassed the immediate area next to the road and surprisingly enough for the two of us, found this little guy," he nodded toward the deeply breathing child, "curled up at the edge of the thicker part of the woods. It took us a minute to realize just exactly what we'd found. I mean, he was awake, frightened to death, but completely cognitive. It was obvious he'd been meant as a meal, you can see the blood on his shirt… something must have gone wrong. When we talked to him we could tell it was Carson. It's like he still has _most_ of his memory, but his brain's just deciphering things different. He didn't make it half way back to the gate before he nodded off, he probably hurts like hell to."

John had yet to notice that Weir had yet to interrupt his musing or ask any questions. She was still partially in shock. This couldn't _really_ be the CMO of Atlantis? They'd do a blood test to make sure. Yes, that was it. And when it didn't match they would send the child back to his home world and apologize for inconveniences they may have caused by taking him. Yes, of course.

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If Elizabeth thought she had reacted strangely to John's story, then Dr. Apollo's reaction must have been off-the-charts weirded out. But she did agree to patch up the little guy and run the blood work. However, John wasn't just about to hand over his new little buddy that quickly. He insisted that he carry him back to the infirmary, and then excused it with 'he didn't want to wake him'. Elizabeth laughed inwardly; even rough and tumble Sheppard had a daddy's image while he sat there with a child firmly snuggled into his field jacket. She accompanied them down to the infirmary for she was very curious as to what would show up in the results.

They were halfway to the transporter when the sleepy toddler decided to wake. Still clinging to Sheppard's field jacket, he had his head resting against on John's shoulder. Also, from the rhythmic bouncing, he could tell they were walking somewhere. He gently pried open one blue eye, then the other, blinking away the sleep and reaching up to rub at them. Adjusting his head just a little allowed him to see over Sheppard's shoulder, and he noticed Elizabeth, who was trailing behind them. But Weir didn't notice him and he tried to make eye contact with her, briefly, before turning back to rest his head against John's neck. There was still a lingering sense of tiredness, along with a tingling pain in his chest when he moved. He shifted and gave a small whimper.

It wasn't that Sheppard didn't know that he was awake, he could tell from the more controlled movements, but he didn't acknowledge it, hoping he would doze back off. It was the tiny note of discomfort that made him reach up with a soothing touch. The transporter doors closed behind them and it was then that the entire company noted the now conscious child. Apollo watched curiously as Weir tried to draw out some eye contact. She saw a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty when she finally managed to do so.

"Hello there," she said, with that sing-song-ish voice people liked to use around children.

Even Weir's hopes of this being an erotic day dream were vanquished when the tiny brogue came out in a child's tongue; there was no mistaking that this was indeed Carson Beckett. "Lo 'lisbefh." Carson rubbed at his eyes again, "Am sl'py." With a sigh he repositioned himself against Sheppard.

Weir smiled, she'd always pictured Carson as a cute little boy, and it appeared to be that she was right. But that didn't abate the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. They were at the infirmary doors now, and the group paused. Susanne turned to face Sheppard and little Carson. She bent forward so she was eye level with him. With her head canted she asked him a few questions.

" Carson? Do you know where you are?" her voice was very light and friendly.

Carson sat up a tiny bit and look around, surveying the hall where he spent a lot of his time. It took him longer than it would have in a normal situation, but he eventually answered. "Owside the infir'ry." He sounded quite proud of his accurate observation. The adults noticed that his tiredness was ebbing.

"That's right, do you mind if we go in and make sure you're not hurt?" there was that patronizingly friendly voice again.

Carson looked at her with uncertainty at first, he'd never been overly excited about switching roles as a doctor normally, and with the vantage point of a two year old, who knew how it would turn out. Finally, he reluctantly decided it was ok, but he had his conditions, "No ne'dels?"

Dr. Apollo twisted her mouth, "Well, there might be, but I promise it won't hurt. Not one tiny bit." A reassuring pat on his back and a friendly smile helped coerce an anxious nod out of him. And even so, his grip on the Colonel's jacket tightened. John held him closer as they filed into the main ward and back towards the more private exam rooms. Elizabeth waited up front until after they were done, there was no need to make him more nervous than he was.

Susanne pulled the privacy curtains around the railed infirmary cot, sealing it off from any curious eyes. Sheppard moved to settle Carson onto the bed, but he was having none of it. He held onto his neck tightly, making a very lost-puppy noise, scrambling with his feet to stay aloft. A warm hand moved to his back and Sheppard's voice, usually sarcastic and playful, was comforting and low in his ear.

"You're alright, it's ok. I won't leave." The grip didn't loosen. Sheppard laughed quietly at the surprising strength the little guy had. "Come on Carson, let go. You'll be fine." Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be pried off and set gently atop the blankets. Even then he stuck right by Sheppard's side, keeping well away from Dr. Apollo.

He was wearing only the standard issue of black Atlantis shirts, his boots and khakis were probably long gone. There were dark stains toward the central area of the grossly oversized t-shirt, surrounding jagged rips in the cloth. It was uniform with any other Wraith victim they'd ever seen, except for one miniscule detail. Carson was still alive. Susanne had slipped out of the curtain fairly quietly, leaving Sheppard to gently comfort the nervous boy. John kept his touches light, simple circle on his back or tossing his hair when he became uncertain of his surroundings. He was beginning to settle when Dr. Apollo bustled back into the curtained area, holding... kid's clothes?

"A big supply of children's clothing was brought on the Deadalus," she explained at Sheppard's very confused look, "Since our population is growing, a number of sizes were included. Everything from little newborns to about six or seven years. The Athosian's use the supply the most." All the while she was explaining, she was moving about, writing things on tablets or looking for something in the drawers or cabinets. She had tossed the dark green, footed pajamas on the bed. They were kind of fuzzy, with what looked like cartoonish dogs imprinted on the fabric. It was better than a giant T-shirt, mused Sheppard. Apollo finally stopped her buzzing around, apparently she had gathered all her things. She knelt next to the bed side, so as to be level with a very fidgety Carson. She had one of the digital read-out thermometers in her hand, out of sight from him.

" Carson? Can I take your temperature?" she said it very sweetly, keeping it like it was an important decision and, all up to Carson. He shook his head rapidly and edged back behind John. Susanne looked up to John, looked to Carson, and then back up at John with her eyebrows raised. He got the message. Moving down a ways, he sat on the edge of the cot. Carson quickly crawled up into his lap. He put his arms around him like a seat belt and tilted his head around to look at him.

"You're not really afraid of that little ol' thing are you?" he said in mock disbelief and gestured towards the little tool in Apollo's hand. She held it out to show that it was benign. John reached out and took it, holding it with both hands in front of Carson for him to see. Little finger's gently reached out to touch it, pushing the buttons and making it beep faintly. It amused him to the point he even smiled a little and pushed the button again. "Can she take you're temperature with it?" John's voice was hopeful. Carson looked up at him concern in his eyes. Susanne stepped in.

"Maybe we should take John's first, just to make sure it works right," she smiled down at the little boy, whose curiosity perked up. Sheppard smiled too.

"That's a good idea." He tilted his head and let Susanne hold the little white thermometer to his ear. It beeped and Dr. Apollo showed it to Carson. "It say's ninety-eight point four," she pointed to each number and read slowly, "That means John's healthy." Carson smiled a little at her. "Now can we try it on you?" He finally nodded and scooted forward a little on John's lap. Susanne put on a new plastic sanitation cover and as gently as she could took, recorded and announced his temperature.

"Ninety-nine point two. See? That wasn't too bad." She gave a little smile to the toddler when he shook his head with a grin. John piped up from behind.

"Are you going to let her finish or do I have to go first every time?" he looked down into the small blue eyes that were staring up at him.

"Ah can do et," he said very quietly. Throughout the rest of the vitals and general exam he sat placidly in Sheppard's lap. Apollo recorded a number of things; pulse, blood pressure, heart and breathing rate, as well as testing his vision and memory. She had him walk across the room and back, tested all his reflexes, along with a number of other neurological exams. He was in perfect health, except he was about thirty years younger than he was this morning. The blood work would answer that question, maybe.


	2. Situational Irony

**A/n: **The flow of this chapter bugged me for a long time. I think I rewrote it like five times, and I'm not completely happy with it. Thank you so much for the reviews, the third chapter is in progress and should be up soon. Happy reading!

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" Carson, please? It won't hurt I promise," Colonel Sheppard's voice pleaded for the umpteenth time. But again Carson shook his head defiantly; clinging to the Colonel's side with an iron grip.

"It'll just take a second, and then we'll be done." Dr. Apollo was begging now. For the past minute or so, they'd been trying to get Carson to cooperate with them. All they wanted was to remove the oversized, bloodied shirt that was draped very loosely over his tiny frame. It wasn't going to well and, Susanne was beginning to lose her patience. " Carson, either be cooperative and _let_ us look at where you're hurt or we'll do it anyway. You won't like the second way." There was a menacing, motherly tone to her voice now.

Carson shrank back, only his eyes and the top of his head were visible from behind John. There was fear in those eyes, either from Dr. Apollo or from what they wanted from him, she wasn't sure. Either way, he was staying firmly put. John took a new approach. Prying the little finger's from his shirt, he moved to stand next to Susanne, leaving Carson exposed and at a loss of what to do next.

"We can wait all day, Carson, but we do need to look at that cut, just to make sure you're ok. You don't want it to get worse, do you?" The boy frantically shook his head. Sheppard put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head, "Then can we look?" Silently, Carson nodded. Then he scooted to the edge of the bed, slipped to the floor and tottered over to John. Sheppard squatted down eye-level with him.

"Am s'ry," his voice was so little and soft that John barely caught it, but the hug that followed conveyed the message just as well. With that, Sheppard picked him back off the floor and set him on the edge of the cot so his feet dangled. He stood off to the side and let Susanne take his place in front of Carson. Tugging gently at the hem of the shirt, she slid it up and over his head. There were four gashes on his chest, just barely off center. Scabs were already starting to form over them, but both Doctor and Colonel noted that they couldn't be anything less that painful for such a little guy. She tenderly touched them, apologizing soothingly as he winced. He really wouldn't like it when they had to be cleaned and dressed properly. She looked to John and motioned with her head towards the curtains.

Once outside the curtains, they spoke in a hushed tone. Susanne started, "You know he's going to be very unhappy when we starting rubbing Hydrogen Peroxide on those cuts. Plus, I don't know how to bandage them with out limiting his movement, and he's unsteady enough as it is," she chuckled dryly, "and the last thing he needs is some other injury."

Sheppard nodded, "Maybe if you just do, like, a surface bandage instead of wrapping it all the way around him. And maybe if I sit with him, he'll be ok while you clean him up," he shrugged. Susanne nodded vaguely, and then finally made eye contact with the Colonel and agreed.

"Yes, I think you're right. But if we don't use a wrap, he'll have to have the bandage changed at least once before it heals. That won't be too pleasant."

"Yeah." Sheppard didn't know what to say, after all he wasn't a Doctor. Susanne turned and went back through the curtains, Sheppard followed soon after. Carson was lying on the bed, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling and wiggling around like little kids tend to do. He sat up when he saw them appear through the privacy curtain, looking expectantly from one to the other. Susanne's voice was very soft while she tried to explain what they were going to do to his cuts.

"See this?" she held out a brown bottle with a white label, "This is Magic Water." Sheppard grinned at her ingenuity and Carson's bamboozled look. Hydrogen Peroxide sounded a lot scarier than 'magic water'. Susanne kept explaining, "We're going to use this to wash those scrapes, ok?" Carson nodded a little, both curious and apprehensive as to what this stuff was going to do to him. Susanne pulled up a little stool to the edge of the bed. Sheppard moved around to the other side, sitting down with one leg bent towards his thigh and the other hanging off the edge. Immediately, Carson was in his lap, leaning back against him like a chair. John just smiled. Dr. Apollo instructed him to lie back, so he scooted down the bed a little so his head rested on Sheppard's leg. He looked around nervously as he watched Apollo wet a cotton ball with the Peroxide. "This might sting a little Carson, but that's how we know its working."

The first time the doused cotton ball touched his skin, Carson cried out and flinched away. He tried to sit up, but John's big hand stopped him, "You're alright Carson, it just scared you. Lie back down, you'll be ok." He obliged, and this time when she rubbed over the scabs he fidgeted, but he did his best to stay put. It took less than ten minutes to clean the wound and put what was similar to an oversized Band-Aid on it. By that time Carson was pressed close against Sheppard. He kept rubbing his glassy eyes and every now and then would sniffle; but he did not cry.

Dr. Apollo tossed the forgotten Pjs up to Sheppard, who reached up and caught them out of reflex. "You should put those on him before we do the last of this, he probably won't be awake for long afterwards." With a nod, John nudged Carson gently.

"You wanna put these on?" He held up the green pajamas. The little fellow looked at them for a second before pointing to one of the toon-ish dogs.

"T's a d'gy." He sounded proud of his observation and it was then that John could tell how tired Carson really was. With a laugh he helped him stand on the bed and step into the little footies, then pulled it up and over his arms, pulling the zipper up the front and gently ticking his stomach.

"There we go, pajamas," John smiled at the little boy, who smiled back before plopping down onto the bedcovers and giggling with amusement at his covered feet. Sheppard reached out and tickled his foot and Carson pulled away and giggled more. It went back and forth for a minute or two, John would tickle the back of his legs or goose his stomach and Carson would scramble around and laugh. Their little game was cut off when Susanne came back, shaking her head at the two of them.

She was wearing new rubber gloves, and Sheppard could see the tourniquet hanging from her lab coat pocket. He could only guess there was a needle and syringe in the other. He and Apollo both glanced at the little giggling toddler, then to each other with apologetic looks. Sheppard turned to Carson, his voice was still playful, "Hey, Carson, we still gotta do one more little thing before we can get out of here. 'k buddy?"

Carson nodded, still expecting something fun. " Tay," he agreed while he crawled his way back into John's lap. Sheppard wrapped his arms around him, making sure that his grip wasn't too tight, but so that he couldn't wriggle away. Susanne pulled her little stool around and sat within reach of Carson. She held his wrist gently, pushing the elastic cuff of his sleeve up to his shoulder. She took the tourniquet and tied it loosely right below the sleeve.

"See this string?" Carson nodded and Susanne continued, "I need to make it _real _tight, so it's safe." The little guy nodded again, letting his head lean back on Sheppard's arm. Susanne pulled the knot in the tourniquet tight, making Carson shift uncomfortably. She took his wrist back into her hand, using a pre-packaged alcohol wipe to scrub his arm clean, just at the top of the bend opposite his elbow. By this time Carson had it just about figured out and was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. It wasn't until Susanne popped the needle out of its blister pack to put into the syringe that his fear was confirmed.

Instantly, he pulled his arm back, huddling against Sheppard and trembling. Dr. Apollo sighed, she had sympathy for him, but if they ever wanted to find out what exactly went wrong today, it needed to be done.

John had tightened his hold on him, rubbing his back and making comforting sounds. Carson was downright terrified, and had the circumstances been different, John would have found hypocritical irony in the situation. Using his eyes and tilting his head towards the shivering wreck, Sheppard conveyed the message of 'just get it over with' to Susanne. So, with a firm yet gentle grip, she pulled his arm away from him and held it straight. Apollo had barely touched him with the needle when he lost it; bursting into tears and struggling to get away, it took all of Apollo's concentration not to jostle the syringe. Quickly as she could, Susanne collected her sample, withdrew the needle and put a Band-Aid over the tiny puncture. She removed the tourniquet and pulled his sleeve down, apologizing as she went.

"It'll probably take a day to a day and a half to run these samples, I'll message you and Weir when it's been finished. Take him home, let him rest, maybe see if he'll eat something," she pulled out a pad of paper and started scribbling on it, "I don't know if you're keeping him or what, but he really shouldn't be left alone, who knows what kinda weird-o side effects this could have on his body." Susanne tore the top paper off the pad and handed it to him. It was a prescription. "Give this to Nurse Micha upfront, she'll give you a bottle of Amoxicillin." And with that, she bustled off towards the lab with her samples, waving over her shoulder as she went.


	3. New Surroundings

**A/n:** I know this chapter is rather short and uninformative, but I've been sick recently and my muse is shot. Forgiveness!? Next chapter will be up A.S.A.P.

Out in the main ward of the infirmary, Elizabeth had made herself comfortable in the little make-shift waiting area. She stood when John approached, carrying a still partially weeping Carson. "Here, take him for a second," John shifted his arms and, reluctantly, Carson let himself be transferred over to Elizabeth's outstretched arms. She looked down at him, gently wiping his face. It was then that Carson decided she was good enough for him and laid his head on her shoulder.

"What'd Dr. Apollo say?"

"Other than the fact that he's in damn near perfect health? Nothing. Blood work should take about a day or so, until then… I guess we just wait. Not much else to do."

"What are we going to do with him till then?" Elizabeth wondered aloud, "We could see if Teyla would keep him until we sort this mess out."

John, though outwardly showed nothing, strongly opposed, "I thought, maybe, I would keep him." He scratched the back of his head. "It was my fault he's in this situation as it is, might as well do something good with it." He cleared his throat and held up the piece of paper, "I'll be back, gotta hand this over to a nurse." And with that he was gone, avoiding any awkwardness that might have ensued his comment.

Elizabeth sat back down, Carson's frame resting comfortably against her while they waited for John to return.

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The nurse that sat behind the main desk towards the back of the main ward must've been the Micha person that Susanne told him about, seeing as there were no other nurses around. John approached the desk, his usual demeanor of casualty and calm about him. She looked up from her paperwork as he approached, "Colonel Sheppard," she greeted with a pleasant voice, "what can I do for you?"

He extended the piece of paper, "Dr. Apollo told me to give this to you," he put his hands back in his pockets after she took it from him. She read it over twice before standing and going into what looked to be a large storage facility. When she returned she had a clear bottle full some sort of pink liquid.

"Amoxicillin," she said, her voice all business, "it's an antibiotic, which means it staves off, or fights, infections. It needs to be taken every eight hours, usually with some sort of food or maybe a glass of milk. If you take it on an empty stomach, you're almost guaranteed you'll get sick. Some of the more common side effects you could see are, vomiting, nausea, headaches or drowsiness." She wrote the majority of her lecture in short hand on a piece of paper and gave it to Sheppard. "Also, if you have severe, or reoccurring, vomiting, abdominal pain, or any signs of allergic reaction, come back here immediately." With that concluded she gave him the paper bag with the Amoxicillin in it and smiled politely, "Have a nice day Colonel."

"Thank you," he took the bag, stuffed the information in his pocket and made his way back towards the front of the infirmary.

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Once again, Elizabeth stood as John returned. This time though, with a squiggling toddler in her arms. Carson, upon noticing Sheppard's presence, smiled and reached out towards him with both arms.

"Jep'rd!" it was followed by a giggle. Elizabeth laughed and extended him out for John to take.

"Somebody's good with kids," she teased, as an afterthought she added, "Of course, it helps being one, doesn't it Colonel?"

"Hey, I have more fun than anyone on this base," he added defensively, though the smile never left his face. Elizabeth went mock serious.

"Sure, John, whatever you say," and she turned and made her way towards the infirmary doors. Sheppard stuck his tongue out at the back of her head, making Carson bubble over with giggles again.

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The arrived at Sheppard's quarters around four o'clock, and ever though it was just turning into evening, it felt like it'd been the longest day. Ever. Mentally, John let himself in and the lights automatically flickered to life. Carson looked around, taking in yet another new surrounding for the day.

Though many of the quarters on Atlantis were similar, they each had the personality of the person who resided there. Sheppard's was no different. There was a good sized television, a two-seater couch, and even a table and chair set over near a kitchenette area. His walls were clad with posters for Johnny Cash, Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, and a few lesser known artists. In the corner by his bed was his guitar case, along with a folder of sheet music. War and Peace was sitting on the night table, opened to page twelve. It wasn't much, but it was good enough.

Sheppard set Carson on the couch, telling him to sit tight, and went off towards the mini kitchen that most quarters had. Following the nurse's instructions, poured a small glass of milk from the individual bottles in his fridge. He measured out the correct dosage of antibiotic and turned back towards the rest of the room.

With the help of the back of the couch, Carson was standing on the cushions, watching John intently in the kitchenette. As John returned, Carson smiled and greeted him with what would become his normal hello.

"Jep'rd!" He clapped his hands together, forgetting that he was holding himself up. He collapsed backwards onto the cushions. John laughed, pointing at Carson.

"Carson." The toddler wiggled excitedly. John set the plastic medicine cup on the little end table. "Now that we know who we are," he held up the milk glass, "how about a drink?" Sheppard took Carson's unintelligible babbling as an agreement. With help from John, Carson drank thirstily from the glass. When he sat back, he had the signature milk mustache that was a must-have for all children. Procuring a handkerchief from his pocket, Sheppard wiped it away. Before he could put it back in his pocket, Carson grabbed at it, pulling it from Sheppard's hands and draping it over his face. John raised an eyebrow. He lifted up the corner, only to have the toddler giggle loudly and pull it back down again.

"Am hid'n!" he must've tickled himself with his ingenuity because he hiccupped with laughter. John chuckled.

"Of course you are." He snatched away the fabric scrap, surprising the toddler, "Found you!" He said with amusement. Carson clapped his hands and laughed. John reached for the plastic cup on the table, "Before we do anymore play, somebody here has to take their medicine." Carson scanned the room innocently. John poked a finger in his stomach, causing the toddler to laugh. "That person is you." He held out the cup.

Carson covered his mouth with both hands, shaking his head. John sighed, it never could be easy. "If you take it… we can go visit Rodney?" The hands stayed put. "I'll… give you a cookie?" Nope, still there. Sheppard sighed, resigning to tapping his earpiece. "Sheppard to Apollo." The radio waves popped in his ear.

"Apollo here, what can I help you with Colonel?"

John tilted his head at Carson as he spoke into his radio, "Any suggestions on giving medicine to an uncooperative toddler?" He could hear Dr. Apollo laugh on her end.

"Try putting it into a drink, chocolate milk works the best. There are some cartons in the mess." Sheppard could practically hear her grin, "Anything else I can do for you Mr. Mom?"

Sheppard made a face, "Haha Doc, I'll let you know. Sheppard out." He tapped his earpiece again, then tugged it off and threw it onto the table. He stood up from the couch cushions, medicinal cup still in hand. He looked down at Carson, who was staring up at him with a happy expression. "Guess we get to go on a little excursion, eh?" He scooped up the child with one arm, settling him against his chest. "Right then, let's go." He returned the antibiotic to the fridge and set off in the direction of the mess hall.


End file.
